War
by It'salreadycreeping
Summary: Hakoda stands on the deck of a ship, and thinks about his family and what it means to be a warrior. Oneshot.


**I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender, any characters or settings in this, or even my own mind. Ah well.**

**War**

"Hakoda? We've spotted some Fire Nation ships up ahead." Hakoda's tent flap opened, and Bato appeared in the triangle of light.

The warrior glanced up at his friend. "Ready the ships," he said distractedly. "Prepare for battle." Hakoda stood up to follow Bato out of the tent. With a last glance at the map of the world that he had been perusing, he hurried out onto the beach.

Every deck of every ship was swarming with Water Tribe warriors. They were testing the sails, checking everything was in order, grabbing their weapons. Hakoda and the rest of the men had become so accustomed to the dread of battle that they hardly even noticed it – they just got on with it, like they had before the war, when there was hunting to be done and it was bitter cold outside.

There was always a sort of fervour, though, that came with being able to do something. Hakoda and a few other men had spent weeks trying to work out a way to attack the Fire Nation without committing suicide, and while they were doing that, the rest of the warriors had had to sit on the sand and sharpen their weapons. They jumped at the chance to fight, constantly surveying the horizon for the black stain of steam-powered vessels.

Hakoda strode up the ramp that bridged the gap between ship and sand.

"Ready for the fight?" someone asked him.

"You bet." Hakoda smiled faintly, almost grimly, as he studied his weapon.

It wasn't that they wanted to fight; the Water Tribe warriors weren't the bloodthirsty savages that filled Fire Nation children's storybooks. No, it was more because without fighting, the warriors wondered why they were here at all. They thought about their families – the reason they were attacking all those ships. They wanted, Hakoda included, to protect their wives and children at all costs.

But there was something different about his situation. Hakoda's wife was dead, and his own children were not in the South Pole anymore – they were in the Fire Nation, the most dangerous place in the world. He was worried for them, but he knew he couldn't help them. This was the one thing that separated him from the other warriors; whatever they did to the Fire Nation ships, his kids would still be in more danger than he had ever imagined them in, even in his worst nightmares.

When they were small, he had lain in bed at night and thought up all the hundred and one ways there were for them to die. The South Pole wasn't the pristine winter wonderland that the Earth Kingdom natives imagined; it was harsh, and cruel. One of them could be sliding on the ice when it suddenly cracked – they could be foolish enough to approach a leopard-seal's cubs. There were sharp weapons in the house, and a fire in the hearth. If a snowdrift fell on one of them, he wouldn't hear their screams.

Now, he had the same feeling of helplessness. He couldn't do anything to protect them from the reality of a world at war – yet if they died, it would be his entire fault.

On top of that fear, though, there was pride. Whenever he thought of his children, aiding the Avatar, upholding everybody's hope, he felt as though a warm fire-rock had lodged itself in his chest.

"Hakoda! Pull that rope!"

"Huh?" Hakoda looked round at the speaker, an old man called Hurik.

"You heard me. Grab that rope and let's get going!"

As Hakoda tugged on the rope as hard as he could, other men pulled on other ropes. With all their strength put together, the sail changed direction slightly; the wind caught it and the great expanse of white billowed out like a cushion. With a great groaning roar like an angry dragon, the boat set off. They were sailing against the tide; every time the bow rolled over a wave, the entire wooden structure gave a trembling jolt.

People were running around, taking up their places, shouting and grabbing their weapons, wishing each other luck. Hakoda looked around. He clapped a man on the shoulder, who turned round immediately.

"Good luck."

"And you."

As the men took their positions around the sides of the ship, Hakoda stood and watched. Suddenly, he felt like a stranger, watching the scene from a distance. He heard the silence as they all waited, their gazes fixed on the black blots of distant Fire Nation ships. He saw their grim expressions.

Then, all of a sudden, Hakoda remembered that he, too, was part of that group. He took up his place at the edge of the ship, alongside Bato and Hurik. They didn't move or outwardly acknowledge his presence at all, but they let him stand between them; this was the true sign of comradeship, being accepted without the use of words.

If Hakoda could not have his family, he could at least have this. At least he knew he was doing something – at least he was helping, and fighting alongside the best people he knew.

He was fighting for his wife's memory. He was fighting for Katara, with her kind nature and her gentle smile. He was fighting for Sokka, too, though Sokka didn't need fighting for anymore. But he was also fighting for the world, just like they were, and that wasn't just protection – that was a bridge between them.

**A/N:**** Hakoda is very cool. Glad he's coming back in S.3! Which will be premiering TODAY for some people… grrr!**

**This is probably the end of the post-a-thon I've done to get me started… they're kind of… the best ones I've done. Others are not so good. :( Plus, I'm going away for the weekend.**

**If you're reading this, please review and tell me **_**what I'm doing wrong. **_**I want to get better! **

**Thank you for reading :D**


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